


A Royal Wedding

by KBates



Series: The Goblin Royals [2]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Absurdist Humor, Complicated Relationships, Dark Humor, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 12:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12606492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBates/pseuds/KBates
Summary: Jareth and Sarah’s youngest daughter is getting married and Jareth has issues.Dark, absurdist humor inspired by Wes Andersen movies, of which The Royal Tenenbaums is an example.





	A Royal Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything apart from my original characters.

\--

_(Jareth and his daughters)…_

“You cannot do this to me. You said you’d take the throne, not go gallivanting off with some Elf idiot and be his Queen.”

“To you? _To you_?” the Goblin King’s youngest child repeats, incredulous. “This has nothing to do with you, Mara— _I_ met someone, _I_ fell in love. Since he’s the _only_ heir to his throne, I don’t have a choice but to be his Queen.”

The Goblin King’s oldest child turns to glare at her father. “Why should the responsibility of the throne fall back to me? Get Kassan. Where is he, anyway?”

Massaging his temples with his gloved hands, Jareth takes a large sip of mead. Whoever said that children are path to happiness was gravely mistaken. “Kassan has apparently taken a vow of silence for a decade. All he can do is sit uselessly and glare at goblins while they burn the Kingdom to the ground.” Of all his children, his one and only male heir had turned out to be the most hopeless of the lot. The fates are ironic indeed.

“I don’t have the luxury of sitting here and debating the issue with you, Mara—Leon and his father will be here any moment,” Star says, exasperated with arguing with her older sister.

“Leon? Isn’t that human name?” Mara turns to her father and raises a brow. “You’re letting your _darling_ daughter marry an _Elf_ with a _human_ name? This is rich.”

Jareth takes another large sip of his drink. “I let _you_ run wild in the human realm doing whatever it is that you do there.”

Mara gives him a wry look as she opens up a packet of slim menthols and lights up a cigarette, knowing it’s bound to annoy her father to no ends. “I was never your _darling daughter_ , Jareth.”

“Mara-” Jareth starts before he’s cut off by Star as she steps in between them.

“Seriously, I have a ton of preparations to make—discuss your daddy issues later, Mara. Father…” she begins thinking of the right words to say, “…I know Leon’s come as a bit of a shock to you, but please don’t make things more difficult than they have to be.” She takes on a pleading tone and makes sure her eyes are as wide as they can get, as she ignores her sister’s scoff.

Jareth’s cold heart thaws just a little at her wide eyed look. “Of course, princess.”

Mara rolls her eyes heavenward, but Star smiles at him widely. “See you at dinner, father,” the youngest Goblin Royal says before turning to her older sister. “And you, Crown Princess,” she taunts, sticking out her tongue childishly before transporting herself out of her father’s study.

“Mara, could you be the civilized princess that you are, for _once_ , and stop this human habit of yours?” Jareth says, putting on his most ominous ‘Goblin King’ voice, and fixing his firstborn with a razor sharp gaze.

Mara flips her long, dark hair to one side and shrugs her shoulders, unperturbed. “The whole menacing Goblin King routine doesn’t work on me, Jareth—you know that,” she replies, taking another drag before sitting down on the couch.

Jareth sighs, sitting down across from her. “It was worth a try—and for the millionth time, call me father.”

“Save your fatherly role for Star, Jareth,” she says, a smirk forming on her lips when he glares at her.

Downing the contents of his glass, Jareth takes a deep breath, his temper hanging by a thread—losing it would be a mistake—Mara is known for keeping icily calm during any sort of emotional display. “Mara,” he begins, “You’ve _always_ been and _always_ will be my _darling daughter_ , as you put it, regardless of how much you try to prove otherwise.”

Mara gives him an unconcerned shrug. “If you want me to call you father in front of the Court and the Elves, then fine, I can put on a show. Speaking of the Elves, I hear the Elf King likes fucking anything human so I’d steer Sarah away from him, if I were you.”

Jareth doesn’t bother arguing—she’s given him a rare concession—however small, he’ll take it. “I see you’re on a first name basis with Sarah as well,” he states, somewhat relieved that he’s not the only parent she alienates.

Mara laughs a laugh that’s both sharp and cold, not unlike that of her father’s. “You’d separated by the time _precious_ Star was old enough to understand your... _special dynamics_. Kassan and I, on the other hand, had the privilege of experiencing it firsthand.” She shakes her head when he tries interrupting her, “I’m not here to dwell on the past, Jareth—I just wanted to warn you about the Elf King, for Star’s sake. It’d be very awkward if her future father-in-law were to fuck her mother. I have somewhere else to be.” Saying that, she transports herself out of his study, leaving the Goblin King alone with his thoughts…and a much needed, large glass of mead.

Jareth sighs, annoyed with everything and everyone in his life. He’d never thought his youngest would marry the simpering Elvan prince, Leon. His thoughts drift towards Sarah—he clenches his fists—he’d have to be extra nice to her… _dammit!_ Knowing Sarah, she’d make it a point to fuck the Elf King just to spite him…Downing the contents of his glass, _again_ , Jareth sighs for the umpteenth time since this blasted wedding’s been announced.

 _Why are the women in his life so damned difficult_?!

\--

_(Dinner)…_

“Sarah, you have the most captivating eyes—a sea of emerald lit by blazing fire.”

Jareth has to stop himself from snorting. “That’s a touch too dramatic, Elir or should I call you Elf King?”

The Elf King smiles imperiously. “You may call me King Elir, _Jareth_.” He turns towards Sarah, “You, my dear Goblin Queen, may call me anything you please.”

Sarah only laughs, but Jareth glares at the other monarch. The gall of the elf! Just as he’s about to give him a verbal lashing, Sarah places a hand on his arm, reminding him that he’s supposed to be on his best behavior for Star.

“I’ll call you King Elir,” Sarah says, returning his smile. “But getting to the point, you do realize that Star was supposed to take the Goblin throne?”

Elir laughs deeply. “Of course—but you are blessed with three heirs, Queen Sarah. Not all of us are as fortunate. And Star is your _youngest_ , isn’t she?” He turns towards Mara, who stares at him coolly. “Your firstborn will make a fine Queen.”

“I didn’t want to be Queen, Elf King,” Mara states, her gaze sharp and unyielding, and her voice laced with ice. “Star and I aren’t interchangeable—in fact, she’s giving up a position of greater power to take on a secondary position as the Elf Queen.”

“It’s a difficult situation,” Leon cuts in, shrinking a little as the Goblin King and Mara turn to him—their expressions equally hostile. He opens his mouth to say something, but Star holds his hand and shakes her head. She’d warned him that her family was all kinds of crazy—she had _not_ been joking.

Star smiles serenely, trying her best to diffuse the tension. “King Elir—how do you like the wild boar? It’s our new head chef’s specialty.”

The Elf King smiles, the girl had good diplomatic skills, she’ll make a fine queen. “It’s absolutely divine, my dear,” he replies…but he just can’t resist the urge to needle the arrogant Goblin King a little more. “But even if we were served the blandest of broths, I’d have imagined the meal to be a feast. Your mother’s exquisite presence has that effect on me.”

Miraculously, Jareth manages to keep himself from striking the Elf King dead. The rest of the dinner goes by without incident—Jareth keeps himself calm by imagining a thousand different ways of torturing Elir in his dungeons.

\--

_(Jareth’s study)…_

Long past midnight, the Goblin King sits in his study—alone—drowning his sorrows with a finely aged bottle of single malt scotch that Sarah had brought from him. Though, at this point of drunkenness, it wouldn’t matter if he were drinking some vile mixed malt like Black Label. He shudders at the thought—how on earth could humans stand mixed malts…or _worse_ …the atrocious drink called bourbon.

As with most major changes, he ponders his life and wonders how things had become so… _muddled_. When he’d married Sarah, he’d believed…what _had_ he believed? That he could change his nature? That she could change hers? _Well_ , the fates had certainly had a hearty laugh and proved him wrong. His firstborn couldn’t seem to stand either of them, his only son seemed to believe in things that even _he_ , as a _magical king_ of a _fantastical realm_ , found illogical, and his lastborn is set to leave him. He doubts Mara is going to take the burden of the throne any time soon. So here he is—a lone Goblin King…with a wife who turns murderous when she spends more than a day in his presence.

“Feeling sorry for yourself is so unlike you, Jareth.” Sarah’s amused observation interrupts the Goblin King’s thoughts, and he turns to look at the woman who, in all legality, is still married to him.

“Sarah,” he says, a hint of resignation in his forbidding voice. “I’m surprised to find you here.”

The Goblin Queen raises a dark brow. “Star’s getting married tomorrow, and I can tell you’re a mess.” She pours herself a drink and takes a sip. “Thought you could use some comforting.”

Jareth laughs at that. “I thought you’d be comforting King Elir tonight.”

“Then you were wrong,” Sarah states, her lips pursed. “I’m not that selfish as to make things so difficult for Star, just to taunt you…even if you _do_ deserve it.”

“Of course,” Jareth drawls, leaning back languidly and raising his glass in a toast. “My vengeful Queen*…intent on breaking my heart.”

She grins and downs the contents of her glass before pouring herself another drink. She sits next to him. “Only because you broke mine first, Jareth—and I’ve never been the sort of woman to sit and cry without doing anything. Or the political wife who stands behind her husband with a face carved of stone.” She winks. “I didn’t get mad, I got even…and had fun in the process.”

Jareth raises his brows at her words—“You’re blaming this on _me_ , Sarah? We didn’t speak to each other for months—you left for your world half the time and refused to attend any mandatory functions as Queen…and you called my mother, if I recall your words correctly, ‘a barking mad, rabid bitch.’”

“In my defense, she sort of is…I’d had enough of her backhanded compliments and bizarre behavior. But _come_ on, you can hardly blame our current state because I insulted your mother. Even if it _was_ in public, on a stage, in front of an audience, during the peace talks.”

Sighing wearily, Jareth shuts his eyes. “Perhaps not…but all it took was one mistake… _one_ mistake, for you to-” he falls silent when he feels her fingers on his lips.

“ _Mistake_?” she asks with a laugh. “Mistake implies that you tripped and fell dick-first into the Winter Queen’s vagina, Jareth,” she says, humor still evident in her voice.

Sitting up, Jareth glares at his wife in right indignation. “After which, you seduced her son, very, very publically—and fucked him during the Winter Ball. In the middle of the ballroom.”

She laughs. “I _did_ say I had fun in the process—and the Winter Ball is a massive orgy anyway. That was decades ago—hardly matters now.” She runs her fingers through his unruly mane, smiling as he leans into her touch. “It’s not like we didn’t try again—the second time around was _more_ disastrous. This— _what we have right now_ —works for us, Jareth.”

Jareth rests his head on her lap, inhaling deeply as she massages his scalp with her fingers…they feel so good. “I spoke to Mara today—she still refuses to call me father.”

“She’s refused to speak to me _at all_ for the last two years, so consider yourself special.”

He opens his eyes and holds her gaze. “Out of all of them, she has the best skills to rule…”

“I know, and I think she’ll come to accept it soon enough,” Sarah replies.

“I doubt it,” Jareth says with a laugh. “Kassan possesses the strongest magic, if he would just-”

Placing her fingers on his lips, she silences him again. “He won’t. Convincing him is futile. It’s a miracle he’s attending the wedding tomorrow.”

The Goblin King lets out a frustrated growl. “It’s not fair.”

The Goblin Queen laughs and laughs until there are tears in her eyes. “But that’s the way it is, Jareth,” she says with a wink, before gently shoving his head off of her lap and standing up. “Tomorrow’s a long day—you need some rest.”

In a flash of a second, Jareth stands up, his arms snake around her waist—his lips hover near her ear. “Rest is overrated.” He kisses his way down her neck until he reaches the tops of her breasts—where he places a small but possessive bite, smiling as she lets out a yelp.

She smiles to herself—he always could sober himself up quite quickly. “What did you have in mind?”

The Goblin King smiles a slow, menacing smile—his predatory teeth in full display. “Do you recall the night I made you my Queen, _precious thing_?” He laughs as her eyes widen and her breathing deepens. _She remembers alright_.

“Do we even have the time-” Sarah begins before crushes his mouth against hers in a searing kiss—his fingers intent on unzipping her dress.

With a snap of his fingers, the Goblin King stops the hands of his clock from moving. He pulls her against his body, his movements not exactly gentle. “You, my love,” he whispers, kneeling down and removing her panties with his teeth, “…are not going anywhere.” He looks up at her, eyes glinting with mischief—“try to continue standing…if you can.”

She closes her eyes, “ _oh God.” H_ ow can he make her feel this way, _still_? His lips, his tongue, his _teeth_ …she moans…the torment is unbearable. In the end, she can’t keep standing as he continues his sweet torture of her senses.

\--

_(Post wedding after party)…_

“Kassan, I am so sick of your stupidity—no one cares about your idiotic vow of silence. What the fuck are you trying to tell us?” Mara demands—a rare display of anger.

Kassan only glares back at his twin and continues making some undecipherable hand gestures.

“Is it an emergency? Are you sick?” Star asks. “You’re beginning to resemble a baboon with severe tics.” Her generally bizarre brother is acting even stranger—something _has_ to be up.

Kassan shakes his head and throws up his hands, after which he makes some grand hand gestures atop his head.

Mara sighs. “I give up. You’ve finally become a full blown lunatic and need a magical lobotomy. Why can’t you just write if you can’t speak?”

“Writing’s cheating—he can’t do that,” Star explains—giving Mara a glass of champagne. “Drink.”

Mara does exactly that—in one large gulp.

“I said drink, not chug!”

Mara shrugs her shoulders. “As Jareth’s heir, I reserve the right to drink all I want. It’s either functional alcoholism or suicide.”

Star rolls her eyes at her sister and turns towards her brother, who’s still making bizarre hand gestures…which…Star narrows her eyes…”Crown?” she asks.

Kassan nods enthusiastically. Finally!

“King? Father?”

Kassan nods so vigorously that his head looks like it’ll fall out of his neck.

“Father’s not here,” Star observes as she studies the guests—it’s a fairly small gathering. There’s a much larger reception planned for the next week.

“ _Oh no_ ,” Mara sighs, a look of disgust on her otherwise aloof face. “Neither is Sarah. They disappeared right after the ceremony.”

The three siblings look at each other with equal parts horror and sympathy before Kassan waves goodbye and disappears to God knows where. Probably the top of Mount Everest.

Mara transports herself into her chambers, packs a large suitcase …she decides to design modern furniture in Milan for the next few months.

Star convinces Leon to screw the upcoming reception and head to Kenya for an impromptu honeymoon. Leon finds lions quite fascinating.

\--

_(Inevitably ever after)…_

After a few weeks of insurmountable passion, Sarah returns to the human world, where she meets an interesting survivalist. They travel to the Amazonian rainforests.

Jareth, alone again, cherishes solitude—for some time—after which, he decides he’s finally had enough of his wife’s insubordination. And that he’s going to get her back to his realm, kicking and screaming if he has to.

Except, he runs into the most… _delicious_ …Elvan ambassador. He gets distracted.

\--

Some relationships are just impossible.

\--

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> And of course they get back together…for a while. Haha.
> 
> *My vengeful Queen—I use this line in The Divorce in LA as well. I like it. 
> 
> I’m technically supposed to be working…but…I’ve spent two hours taking quizzes on Buzzfeed (I ended up getting Ravenclaw 8/10 times and Slytherin twice. My celebrity boyfriend is some kid I’ve never heard of. My movie-creature bff is Toothless. I am a mix of mermaid and human because I want to live life to the fullest. Seems accurate.) Was in the mood to write this. 
> 
> I don’t know if I expect any feedback on this…but it was insanely fun to write.


End file.
